Roses Are Red
by Mycroft-mione
Summary: Phil works at a flower shop. Dan also works at the flower shop. Somehow, Phil has failed to notice this. / For Jas!


Written for:

Jas (Delusional Fujoshi), for the Dunk Tank Funfair Event. I didn't think I could write Phan... but here you go! ;)

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 **Roses Are Red**

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Phil squinted at the list pinned to his clipboard. As his forehead approached the page, the letters swam about, blurring in and out of focus. But backing away didn't help either - it just made the words smaller and more frustrating to look at. Monday was, quite possibly, the worst day to forget his glasses.

 _TODAY'S ORDERS_

 _[Chris]...[vase, begonias]_

 _[Louise]...[tulips, freshly cut]_

 _[illegible]...[delivery, red roses]_

More names followed, but Phil let the clipboard clatter onto the shop counter and sank into his worried-boss-chair. He had no hope. He couldn't take the tube back home, or the store would be left empty. He couldn't simply guess at what 'Christ' wanted his 'bejeweleds' to be shipped in, or how 'Looize' intended to 'freshly cook' her 'tacos.' His online ratings would plummet!

Phil's mental anguish was interrupted by a crashing sound from the refrigerated storeroom. He leapt to his feet, intending to race to the disaster zone and save the day. Predictably, his legs got sore and he stopped to walk.

"Help!"

A voice called out, leading Phil to the site of the crash. He stared at the collapsed freezer compartments that lay on the floor, flowers tumbling out of every opening and already beginning to wilt.

"Erm- I'm sorry about this," the male voice continued. "I tripped."

Phil didn't respond. He couldn't take his eyes off the thousand-pound expense that lay in front of him.

"This is a bit awkward," mumbled the voice. "Do you think you could get me out? I'm kinda trapped."

"Oh-" he stammered. "Fine- sure." He shoved some of the flowers off of where the voice was coming from, revealing a hand sticking out. He grasped it, and carefully pulled it to safety.

"I'm Dan," blurted the owner of the hand. His eyes darted around, avoiding Phil's face.

"I'm Phil."

Dan laughed. "Yeah, I mean, the shop is called Phil's flowers, so I figured..."

"Oh." Phil scratched his head, trying not to look at Dan's smirk and deep brown eyes. He wouldn't have been able to see it clearly anyway. "Right."

"In my defense, I really don't know how it happened."

A question that had been floating around Phil's head suddenly took over his tongue. "Do you... work here?"

"Yeah," Dan answered, with no sign of hesitation. He seemed confused, meeting Phil's gaze with raised eyebrows. "Didn't you know?"

Phil blinked. "I thought it was just me. I've never seen you, not in the month I've owned the place."

"I knew you'd taken over for the old woman who used to be here. She let me mess around in the back storage room for a few pounds an hour. I did deliveries, too." Dan nodded along with each phrase, like he was saying something obvious. "So I figured I'd just stay along after she left. You've been paying me, right?"

Phil shook his head. "Er-"

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"Oh. That would explain why I've got no money for my bloody philosophy textbook."

"You're in uni?"

"Yeah." Dan rolled his eyes for effect. "Not willingly, but yeah."

"Oh," Phil said, feeling more and more confused. How had he missed all this?

Dan looked at him in a calculating way. "I've been spilling my soul, and I don't know a thing about you. Want to get something to eat?" he asked.

A blush warmed Phil's face and spread down his back - all over him, it seemed. "You and me?"

"Yeah, why not?"

Dan grabbed his arm, leading him out of the storeroom and turning off the light. Phil hesitated. "I should be back there cleaning up." He looked to the door in a sense of duty, but Dan led him back to the front of the shop.

"It can wait. And no one's going to come by. It's Monday morning." Dan laughed. "I had enough trouble getting up myself, and I thought I was getting paid for this."

Phil's only thought at that moment was abut getting Dan to laugh again, but he couln't think of what to say. "All right. Half an hour."

"Caramel macchiatos?"

Phil grinned and took Dan's hand. "Yes, please."


End file.
